


7 P.M Sounds Perfect

by moodyme



Series: Hours [11]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: ... I guess?, Alive Noah, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, i guess, soft feelings of love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-01 07:05:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18795379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodyme/pseuds/moodyme
Summary: Noah is in love... and alive.





	7 P.M Sounds Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so the awesome anon who requested this, asked for Noah in love and alive, and... and I really wanted to do that. There weren't supposed to be any AU's to this series, but well... what can you do?  
> HOWEVER! If you want to read this as Noah being a ghost, you totally can do that as well, its all really rather ambiguous and really, what does it mean to be alive? If you are capable of thought, of feeling, aren't you alive? 'I think, therefore I am'? What is life? Is it separate from 'existing'? Because Noah undoubtedly exists, does being a ghost lessen his being alive if he is in fact still existing in such a way that implies life? Its a conundrum my pals!
> 
> Anyway! This is pre-canon and set during Henry's freshman year at Aglionby :)

 Noah had been intrigued by Henry Cheng from the first moment he saw the other boy. There was just... something about him. Something beyond the easy smiles and quick wit. Something deeper than the smooth cadence of his speech and pop culture references. Something  _more_ than just his meticulously quiffed hair and carefully ironed trousers and flippant gestures and provocative protest signs.

 He didn't have the words to say what that  _something_ was. But it made Henry Cheng  _other_. It made Henry Cheng  _more_. It made Henry Cheng utterly fascinating. And every time Noah saw him, or thought of him, he wanted desperately to learn the words to describe, to define, to  _know_ what that something was. 

 So, in order to solve this puzzle that was named Henry, this riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma, he watched the other boy. Watched him as he gathered a group of boys around him, became their friend, became something like their leader. Watched him as he stood outside Whitman Hall, attempting to gather petitions to some cause or another that Noah had never even knew needed to be cared about. He watched him as he laughed along with the administration, becoming more familiar with them than Noah had ever dared. He watched him as he carved out for himself a place of importance, of prominence, in this tiny sector of the world. 

 After all this watching, he still doesn't learn what it is that makes this boy special. He thinks it might be the way all these disparate parts combine into a whole that is  _something more_. He wonders if he watches just a little longer, be might be able to figure this boy out. 

 Or.

 Or, he could do something terrible.

 Something absolutely terrifying.

 Something awful.

 He could try, and try is the key word here, he could try to talk to him. The thought makes his stomach do something very peculiar. The thought makes static ring in his ears for several moments. The thought makes his pulse quicken for some indiscernible reason. The thought makes him want to bash his head against the nearest hard surface for some indeterminable reason. 

 It takes him one week to decide that, yes, he was going to speak to Henry Cheng.

 It takes him another week after that for him to not immediately hide every time he sees Henry Cheng after coming to this decision.

 It takes another week  _after that_ for him to gather every ounce of his courage from every bit of his being, to walk right up to Henry Cheng, say a casual 'sup?' and. And run off down the hall as far and as fast as he can without raising suspicion.

 He sits, after this embarrassing encounter, in the quad, hidden under his favorite tree, for a long time. He watches, disinterested, as other students scuttle about from one building to another. From one class to another. He sits and listens to the chiming of the bells, counts each clang of the bells to tell the hour. He sits and he waits until the end of lessons. And as he sits, and as he waits, he tells himself, 'Tomorrow, I'll do it tomorrow,'.

 Tomorrow arrives. He greets it with a sigh and a shrug and then he squares his shoulders and enters Aglionby. He looks for Henry Cheng. He finds Henry Cheng, blessedly alone, and smiles.

 'Hello,' He says, hopes it doesn't sound lame, wishes he knew of a better way to greet him.

 'Hello' Henry says, and Noah watches as Henry tries to place him. Tries to connect a name to the face. Watches him fail at this task. Watches as this failure surprises him. Knows that Henry has taken pains to try and memorize every name and face at the academy. 'Ah, I don't believe we've met?'

 'No, we haven't,' Noah confirms, 'my name is Noah.'

 'Henry Cheng,' Henry says, and takes Noah's hand. His grip is warm and firm and solid and really very nice. 'Nice to meet you, Noah!'

 And. And, well. Noah isn't sure what to do next. Had never really believed he would get this far. So, he says the first thing that comes to mind.

 'I've seen you around, you seem really interesting, do you wanna be friends?' Noah says, immediately hates himself.

 And. And, well. Henry looks a little surprised. A little pleased. A little shy. And, oh. Oh. He's doing that thing he does sometimes, that thing that adds to the  _something_ about him that makes Noah what to  _know_ him.

 'Oh, that's nice of you,' Henry says, and there is color rising on his cheeks that Noah finds  _adorable,_ 'Yes, we can be friends, if you'd like.'

 'We should probably get to know each other better,' Noah says, hopes he doesn't sound as desperate as he feels.

 'Yes, we should,' Henry replies, nods his head seriously, 'I have classes until 4 p.m, and then I'm meeting a friend to help him study. But I'll be free at 7 p.m? We can meet then? Get to know each other?'

 Noah smiles, feels something that he thinks might be the feeling called elation. He thinks about meeting Henry Cheng on the quad, under his favorite tree. Of solving the puzzle that is Henry Cheng. Of getting to see more of the little smile of Henry's. Of getting to hear his voice, of getting to hear Henry say his name. It's terrible and wonderful and utterly thrilling.

 '7 p.m sounds perfect,' He says.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Noah is alive!
> 
> Or is he?
> 
> What do you think?


End file.
